“Her parents are traveling. She said she’s going to stay with them, wherever the hell they are right now, to ‘think things through.’” He spits out the words and shakes his head, bewildered. “We didn’t even argue. I don’t understand.”
I hear clanking, and Margie returns holding three bottles. “Maybe she left you because you drink wine coolers.”
“Margie!”
Avery hiccups out a half laugh. “You’re such a bitch.”
Margie smiles and takes a swig, looking at the glass appreciatively. “These are pretty good. I take it back.”
“What am I going to do?” Avery groans suddenly, hanging his head in his hands.
“Well,” Margie says. “I know your past relationships were all civilized and disciplined and ended on good terms, but… Avery, I’m shocked you don’t know how sudden heartbreak works. How many times have you mopped up after Penny or me? We’ve had dozens of breakups under our belts, between the two of us.” Margie’s voice is soft, though her tone has a teasing note. She’s always dealt with everything through humor, but her concern for Avery is clear as day underneath it all.
“Never seen either of you heartbroken,” Avery says.
I clear my throat. “You’re going to cry, Vaughn,” I say. “And feel like someone’s set your heart on fire and then stomped it out with cleats. And it’s going to be a chore to get out of bed. And I don’t know when it’ll end because I’m only on day two of feeling it myself.”
Avery lifts bleary eyes to me, and I hug him to me.
“You and her brother?” he asks.
I nod, and he shakes his head.
“That family has emotionally kidney-punched two-thirds of our group. Unacceptable,” Margie says.
Avery’s phone buzzes, and he grabs for it, his face falling when he sees it’s not Anna. “Speaking of the brother, he just texted. He’s on his way to pick up Anna’s stuff.”
My throat closes up. “No! I can’t— I’m not ready to see him. I—”
“You’ll hide in Avery’s bedroom. It’sokay,” Margie says. The only thing that calms me down is the look on Avery’s face. My misery has had time to marinate. His is fresh.
I follow Avery into his bedroom and pace as he neatly folds Anna’s clothes—which aren’t many—and piles them into the suitcase. Margie’s expression says he should chuck that shit in there and be done with it, but she remains silent. The slow and steady way he works at it nearly drives me mental, but then again I’m debating whether or not to leapfrog over the bed and out the door before Jack arrives. Avery closes the suitcase. He sighs.
Whatever he’s about to say is interrupted by the buzzer signaling Jack’s arrival.
I wrap my arms around myself, a protective hug to ward against the anxious fireworks going off inside me. Avery and Margie rush out of the room to let him up, and I leave the door open a crack so I can peer through if I need to. My heart beats against my ribs like a kick drum. My breath comes in puffs so loud—or at least, it feels that way to me—that I find myself holding my breath when Margie answers the door. Jack’s deep voice causes it to whoosh out in a gush.
“I’ll go grab her things,” I hear Avery say. Panicked, I fixate on the suitcase. Avery didn’t take it with him. I back away and turn wide eyes on Avery when he enters the bedroom. He lifts his weary gaze to me and murmurs, “He looks like shit, if it makes you feel better.” A scorpion’s tail of pain snaps up and stings me somewhere in the vicinity of my chest. It doesn’t make me feel better.
Avery gives me a kiss on the cheek and carries the bag out. I hear Jack accept it with thanks.
“Listen… I’m sorry. Anna is my baby sister, and I love her, and she really is a sweetheart, but… She’s complicated. We’ve all got our issues—”
“Yeah. Mommy issues, relationship issues… Lots of people with lots of issues,” Margie interjects.
There is a pause and then, “What I was saying is, we all have our issues, our screwups, but the difference is thatsome peopletry and work on them. I’ve said things I regret in the past. Really regret. And, given the chance, I’d take them back. But I’m just determined to do better next time.”
Next time.With the next girl.
“But not everyone recognizes that they’ve done wrong. That there’s something to fix. That’s Anna.”
I hear a rustle, and I risk a glance through the crack in the door again. He’s turned back to Avery. “I’m sorry, man. This wasn’t about you. It’s about that asshole she was engaged to. She confuses drama and turbulence for love. She always goes back—” He stops. Shakes his head. “He reaches out, and it’s like a hit of dopamine. She always goes back to him eventually, and I’m always there to take care of her when he inevitably breaks her heart again. Until now. That cycle ends today. She wanted to come back to my place after she left here, but I told her she could go stay with our parents or with her friends, but my apartment wasn’t where she was going to hide out and lick her wounds. It’s time for her to grow up and figure things out for herself, and I’ve got to own my part in the whole twisted saga and stop contributing. I’m only here to pick up her stuff so you don’t have to look at it longer than you need to. Anyway… I’m sorry.”
The living room grows quiet in the wake of his statement.
Margie taps her chin. “So if Anna was prepared to work out her stuff, you wouldn’t have had a problem with her and Avery?”
“I would’ve questioned the quickie wedding, but no. I would’ve been thrilled.”
